Neil Knight Private Dick

In a Blackish Kind of Way

"I'm going over" said Leilani.

"What do you mean?" asked Dee Dee.

"I'm going over to the Spradleys."

"Woah now. Hold on Lei. We have a history."

"Well" she replied "maybe it's time to begin again."

And with that, she threw down what was left of the Marcassin Estate 2005 Chardonnay, and headed out the door.

Now Marcassin Chardonnay isn't a wine you throw down, at least not without good reason.

In 1990 Helen Turley, a world renowned wine expert, and her husband, John Wetlaufer, established the Marcassin label. The chardonnay blend, noted for its depth, length and fitness, is still produced as a 'limited edition' wine, yielding only a few cases each year. With the supply limited and demand great, the price followed.

At four-hundred dollars a bottle, Double Dee capped the wine and placed it back into the refrigerator.

Sighing, he drained his glass of Fireball, the ice cubes barely melted, and turned toward the door. Thinking better now, perhaps due to the alcohol, perhaps not, he stopped, retrieved the quart of cinnamon whiskey, and followed in his wife's footsteps, Leilani now a good thirty yards ahead of him.

"Someone's at the door darlin'" said Cotton as the doorbell rang.

"Ya think?" snapped Sue Ellen, quickly apologizing "Sorry Cotton. I'm a might spooked."

"It's not the Mexicans" he said glancing over the door at the fourteen-inch color monitor displaying a direct feed from the outdoor video camera targeted at the front stoop.

"It's the black people" noted Sue Ellen. "Christ, first the Mexicans now the Africans, it's like the goddamn United Nations found out where we live."

"Maybe we shoulda built that wall" he commented, winking at his sweetheart.

"Shut up and open the door" she said, pearly whites brightening her face and mood.

"You're alive" were the first words out of Leilani's mouth as Cotton opened the three-inch solid mahogany door.

"Err, yes, we are" came the startled response.

At that moment Dee Dee joined his wife on their neighbors' stoop.

"They're alive" he echoed.

"Well of course we're alive" said Sue Ellen stepping into view "why the hell wouldn't we be?"

"Lopers" was Lelani's response. "Vinnie Fuentes" she added.

"Ahh yes" returned Cotton. "Our guests."

"The Beaners. Berry Pickers. Pepperbellies. Chili Shitters. I could go on." added Sue Ellen.

"Please don't" offered Leilani, wondering what words were used inside the home to describe her family.

"Don't mind Sue Ellen" offered Cotton "she's just a might spooked."

Cotton recoiled at the inference.

"Oh shit. Spook. No. I didn't mean in that way. We're a little on edge you see. We're not used to people telling us what to do, how to do it, and when to do it based on whether we like living or not."

Dee Dee and Leilani looked at each other, eyebrows raised.

"Let's deal with the elephant in the room first" said Leilani as they entered the Spradley's home. "Why the hell did you call the cops on us when we first moved in to our home?"

"Well" started Sue Ellen "you're were being loud and black."

"We were celebrating."

"Yeah, but in a blackish kind of way."

"What does that even mean?" asked an exasperated Leilani.

"I know" said Dee Dee. "My world is blackish. Rap, Hip Hop, West Coast Gangsta and Trap & Drill are all 'in your face' musical statements. Raw, untethered street emotion."

"Hell, back in the day even Rhythm & Blues, Soul and Funk were disconcerting to some folk."

"I appreciate the history lesson" said Sue Ellen "hope you don't mind if I drop one in the chamber and eat the barrel."

"Listen Mr. Shams. We're quiet folk from Oklahoma. We're not used to hip hop and rap and funk." Cotton continued "Our idea of over the top is the fiddle contest at the American Heritage Music Festival at the Grove Civic Center. Simple folk with fried chicken and beer having a good time."

"White robes and hoods optional?" suggested Leilani.

Cotton grimaced, held his temper and placed a steady hand on his wife's shoulder.

"Fair enough" he said. "Maybe we got off to a bad start. We might not understand you, and maybe you have a bad idea about just who we are."

Dee Dee relaxed.

"Cause hell, we haven't burned a cross since we arrived" added Sue Ellen. "How about if I introduce myself. I'm Sue Ellen Spradley, former stripper, recent MBA graduate from Oral Roberts University. Concentration in accounting."

"And I'm Cotton Lee Spradley. Honorary degree from the Apple/Adobe Training Center at Metro Technology Center Downtown Business Campus Oklahoma City. Developer of the Police Tracker app which made me a goddamn near trillionaire."

Dee Dee and Leilani near pissed themselves.

"How about a drink?" asked Dee Dee, placing the bottle of Fireball on the granite kitchen countertop.

"Fireball !!" the Spradley's exclaimed in unison, smiles stretching the stress from their faces.

"I'll get the glasses" said Sue Ellen.

"Don't forget the cubes!" added Cotton.

"You don't happen to have any Marcassin, do you?" chimed Leilani.

The Spradley's, and even Dee Dee, returned a quizzical expression.

"Ah fuck it" she said. "Pour me one over ice."

"Now you're talking" smiled Sue Ellen.